


tell me, just how dangerous is second best

by trustingno1



Category: Tennis RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustingno1/pseuds/trustingno1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger's speech - probably not intentionally cruel, but for someone who's been here before - not even six months ago, runner-up on a suffocating Melbourne night, and has he really forgotten what it feels like? - it's a dick move. </p>
<p>(Post Wimbledon 2009).</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell me, just how dangerous is second best

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posting some older fics to AO3. Originally posted 06.07.2009
> 
> Interviews within the fic are entirely made up; title from Taking Back Sunday's _I'll Let You Live_

   
   
16-14 in the fifth.

16-14 in the fifth, and by tomorrow, no-one will remember - by this time next year, the four hours and eighteen minutes will be nothing more than Roger's name on a board, an entry in a record book everyone's more interested in than the actual game.

Roger's speech - probably not intentionally cruel, but for someone who's been here before - not even six months ago, runner-up on a suffocating Melbourne night, and has he really forgotten what it feels like? - it's a dick move. (And, yeah, Roger's fourteenth is different to this, a single Wimbledon title - bigger, that was _history_ and _expectations_ , expectations no-one could ever live up to - but to _him_ , this is big, and he wanted this like Roger wanted it on that night in February).

Roger's polite, distractedly sympathetic when he remembers, while they're waiting in the hallway (he doesn't want Roger Federer's pity) - he looks at - through - Andy, because his career's never been measured by Andy's, because he's not the one always coming off second best, because he's never looked at Andy and wondered what it's _like_ (and because he's never, for a split second, hated Andy.

Roger Federer is indifferent to him, and that's so much worse).

There are jokes he'll need to make in the days to come ( _I thought our head-to-head couldn't get any worse; I should've just tripped him; He got lucky ... fifteen times_ ), but it doesn't really matter, because no-one's interested in talking to him (and when they are, it's the questions-that-aren't-really-questions that he's been answering for years- _Roger was just too good today, I guess_ \- and how the fuck is he meant to answer that?). Compliments he's given so many times he's not even sure he means anymore ( _Roger's a great player - and a great guy_ ) will slip from his lips, because they're expected (perfunctory) and it's what everyone needs to believe (that this fairy tale has a hero).

They'll talk about stats that don't matter (he dropped serve just the once - only _once_ , in a Wimbledon final against Roger fucking _Federer_ , but he dropped it when it _mattered_ ).

If he's asked about the jacket (and he won't be), he'll be careful - diplomatic, in a way no-one ever would've expected from him, ten years ago. (He won't say that it was incredibly fucking arrogant, or point out that their sweat hadn't yet dried, that Roger hadn't even been handed the _trophy_ when he slipped on the jacket. He'll keep to himself that it's a fucking slap in the face, to think that Roger never seriously thought he'd lose - that on anyone else, it'd show an appalling lack of respect for their opponent, but because it's _Roger_ , it's charmingly confident, because Roger Federer doesn't lose, and especially not to _Andy Roddick._

Except he nearly did).  
  
  



End file.
